


i'm hanging by a moment here with you

by adamganseys



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-The Raven King, Shirtless Makeouts, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7080016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamganseys/pseuds/adamganseys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam let out a shaky breath and kissed him harder. Then he pulled back and took both of Ronan’s hands and placed them on his chest. “You can—,” he broke off, chewed his lip, started again. “Go ahead. Touch me.” </p><p>(Or, my response to the prompts "Are you wearing my shirt?" and "You're beautiful, you know that?", in which Adam finds his clothes in Ronan's dresser than Ronan took from his dreams and then making out happens)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm hanging by a moment here with you

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [this list](http://adamparrush.tumblr.com/post/145175711465/dialogue-prompts) \- feel free to send me more if you want! This is also posted on [tumblr](http://adamparrush.tumblr.com/post/145371187365/124-andor-128-for-pynch-please). Title is from Hanging By A Moment by Lifehouse, because I feel like I'm in elementary school again, apparently.

The afternoon light turned Adam's tanned face into gold, and Ronan wondered how he had gotten so incredibly lucky. Adam's mouth was slightly parted, his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, and he lied halfway on Ronan's chest in his bed at Monmouth.   
  
It was a Saturday, and Adam had come over an hour ago, intending to watch a movie and make out, but he'd fallen asleep soon after, not having gotten much rest this whole week. It was two weeks after Gansey's death and resurrection, and nightmares plagued them both, but it was a little easier to deal with the horrible memories and grief when they had each other. 

Opal was out with Gansey, Blue, and Henry, since Ronan thought it was far time that they stop being afraid of her and truly got to know her. He didn’t know how well that was going, but he figured she was probably safe.  
  
Ronan was currently in jeans and no shirt, which was his usual attire when he was lazing around Monmouth or the Barns. When Ronan opened the door, Adam had eyed his chest hungrily, and Ronan felt his breath catch and his eyes darken. Then Adam entered and gave him a quick kiss, and Ronan's heart stopped working. Adam noticed Ronan's reaction and his mouth quirked.  
  
"You're going to have to get used to me kissing you eventually, you know."

"You're going to have to be patient," Ronan managed.

"I'm with you, so clearly my capacity for patience is endless."

"Fuck you."

"Besides, there's no rush. It's pretty adorable when you get all breathless from just a peck on the lips."

Ronan huffed derisively, but his ears were pink. "Shut up, Parrish." Adam just laughed, and grabbed Ronan's hands in his, which caused Ronan's breath to hitch yet again.

He moved closer, their lips only an inch apart, and breathed, “You know, if you really do want to get used to it faster, we should probably do it more. Like, exposure therapy.”

“Sure,” Ronan said, trying to get his heartbeat under control. “Sounds effective.”

Adam kissed him.

Truly, it wasn't just the fact that Adam had kissed him that had affected him so strongly. It was the way he did it - so casually, so lightly, a hello kiss, as if they'd been doing this for years and would be doing it for years to come.

Now, he had been staring at Adam's sleeping form for forty-five minutes. He thought he should get tired of it, that it should become boring after a while, but it didn't. Probably an indication of how far gone he was for this boy.

Suddenly, Adam's eyes fluttered open, disoriented for a moment, and then his gaze caught on Ronan's face above him. And Ronan was too slow, didn't move fast enough, so Adam caught him in what was probably a disgustingly love struck and adoring expression. 

Adam smiled at him sleepily, and Ronan's heart melted. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep on you." His Henrietta accent was thick, maybe from sleep, maybe from comfort. 

"S'alright." 

Adam moved off of Ronan, lying down on his side, staring at Ronan through his fair lashes. He began to trace light patterns on Ronan's bare chest, and smiled when he felt Ronan shiver beneath his touch. 

For a while they just stared at each other, and Ronan tried to memorize Adam's features. His bright blue eyes, his elegant cheekbones, the freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks, his soft lips that shouldn't have felt soft for how chapped they were (he'd have to dream up a Chapstick for him so his soft lips would match his soft hands). Ronan felt the fleeting quality of this moment, of this _thing_ , and he felt that he had to commit every part of it to memory so that he wouldn't lose it completely.

"Stop looking at me like that," Adam said suddenly.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm going to disappear."

Ronan tried to speak past the lump in his throat, his voice rough. "Aren't you?"

"No," Adam said firmly. "I'm not."

Ronan didn't say anything. 

"Ronan."

"Parrish."

Adam sighed in exasperation, and then he took his hand between them and kissed his knuckles. Ronan closed his eyes. "I'm here, Ronan. I'm here. You're not going to lose me."

Ronan swallowed and then opened his eyes. "How do you know?"

"Because I do."

"You're leaving." The words were acid in his mouth. 

They had not talked about _this_ yet, though they both knew what it was. Or at least Ronan hoped so. The future loomed above them, a terrifying thing. 

Adam's lips formed into a tight line. "I am. But that doesn't mean I'm never coming back." 

Ronan raised his eyebrows. "Since when? Thought it had always meant that."

"Since a while, I guess."

"Oh." A pause. "What changed?"

Adam gave him an unimpressed look. "You know what changed, you asshole." 

He hadn't, he had only guessed, had only hoped, and the confirmation made his heart fly higher than Chainsaw's wings ever could. He smiled, relief and happiness filling every part of him. 

Adam flicked his cheek and rolled his eyes. "Stop that."

"What am I doing now?"

"You're doing— that."

"Very specific, Parrish."

Adam just leaned forward and kissed him in response. 

Ronan pulled back, bit his lip, needing to get this out. "I don't... I don't want you to come back just for me. If you hate it here, I don't want you to..." He trailed off.

Adam shook his head. "It's not just that. I haven't felt that way in a while. I don't know, I guess somewhere along the way this place stopped being just that trailer, you know? Now it's - it's where I found Gansey and Blue and Noah and Persephone and _magic_ and--," Adam broke off. "And this. You. More than anything, this is worth coming back for." 

Ronan was filled with it, that _thing_. It unfurled through his body and consumed him. Adam could probably see it in his eyes, because he smiled and kissed him again. Ronan exhaled shakily. This was everything he wanted. This was too much and not enough.

A loud obnoxious sound broke the moment, and Ronan groaned. He rolled over and picked up his cell, the caller ID telling him it was Gansey.

"What?" Ronan demanded, sitting up, his voice angry and annoyed by default. He saw Adam's amused smile in his peripheral vision.

"If you and Adam are quite done canoodling, you may want to join me, Henry, and Jane at Nino's for lunch." 

Ronan ignored the first part of that and said, not so pleasantly, "We're fine here."

Adam sat up too and knocked his shoulder against his, a silent chastisement. Ronan sighed. "Fine. We'll be there in a few."

"Hurry up. Your satyr daughter is trying to eat the wooden table. She’s also making some sort of screeching noise that is going to get us all kicked out."

"Bye, Dick."

Ronan sighed, reluctant to get up from the bed. Adam squeezed his hand. "Come on. You heard the man. We need to stop _canoodling_.” Ronan cringed, and Adam laughed. Then he paused and said, “Uh, you should probably put a shirt on, first."

Ronan grinned. "You sure, Parrish? Wouldn't want to mess with your constant ogling."

Adam rolled his eyes, but his face flushed just a little bit. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I don't have to, your eyes are doing it for me."

Adam pushed him. "You can shut up now." 

Ronan just laughed and got up, walking to his dresser. He pulled out a random T-shirt without looking at it and slipped it on. "Alright, Parrish, let's go."

When he turned to face the other boy, Adam had a strange look on his face. 

"What?"

Adam opened his mouth, closed it again. Finally he said, "Are you wearing my shirt?"

Ronan started, "No, I—" But he froze when he looked down. Fuck.

It was a dark blue T-shirt that Ronan had thought Adam looked particularly good in. He still remembered the dream it had come from. He remembered going down on his knees and—

"Ronan?" Adam's voice broke through his trip down memory lane.

"Uh." Ronan could feel himself turning bright red. 

Adam stood up, walked over to him.

He cleared his throat. "I'm pretty sure this shirt is in the laundry machine right now."

Ronan scratched the back of his neck, willing his face to stop looking like a tomato. As usual, his face did not listen. His voice strained, he said, "Yeah, I— uh. I pulled it from a dream."

Adam smirked knowingly. "So, we're you just shopping in my closet in the dream, or...?"

Ronan scowled. "Fuck off, Parrish."

He moved closer, running his fingers over the shirt. Ronan stilled. "It's really accurate," Adam murmured. "It even has the little tear at the edge."

Ronan did not know why he decided to open his mouth and embarrass himself further. "Yeah. It smells like you, too." Ronan slapped his hand over his mouth as soon as those words left it, and then he dragged his hands down his face and groaned. But when he looked at Adam, the other boy was grinning. 

"How sweet."

"Shut the fuck up."

Casually, Adam asked, "So, do you have any more of my clothes in your dresser?"

Ronan stiffened. "Nope," he lied, but Adam saw right through him, as Ronan knew he would. He moved towards the dresser. Ronan grabbed his wrist lightly, his voice on the edge of panic, "No, Parrish, don't—" 

Adam ignored him and opened the second drawer, which was already slightly open from Ronan having taken the T-shirt from it. Ronan wanted the ground to swallow him.

"Oh," Adam breathed. All traces of smugness were gone from his face, and now the tips of his ears were red. 

In the second drawer of his dresser, there were two more of Adam’s T-shirts, two pairs of his jeans, and worst of all, one pair of his boxers. The boxers had transformers on them, a fact that Ronan had teased him endlessly about in the early stages of their friendship, when he saw him changing for Phys Ed.

Ronan’s hands clenched into fists, and Adam shut the drawer and turned to look at Ronan. Both of them were extremely red.

“I—,” Ronan choked out. Cleared his throat. “I dreamt these when… this was before I could control my dreams, okay? After I learned how to, I would never…”

After he had learned to control his dreams, the most Ronan had done with Dream Adam was kiss his fingers and his cheek and hold his hand. It felt wrong to do more, somehow.

They had been together for two weeks, and they still hadn’t done more than some heated making out. Adam had gotten Ronan out of his shirt the night of their first kiss, but thus far Ronan hadn’t returned the favor. Everything still felt new and fragile between them. He figured the topic of going further would come up between them eventually, but this was definitely not how he had wanted it to happen. 

Adam shoved his hands into his pockets, looking uncomfortable. Ronan’s anxiety spiked. He didn’t want to make Adam uncomfortable. He would never—

But then Adam’s lips quirked again, and he said, “Well, you know, sex dreams are natural a part of growing up. Everyone has them. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He said it in the voice of their obnoxious Health teacher, and Ronan huffed, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“Asshole." 

Adam just grinned.

Then Ronan brightened. “Everyone, huh? Does that mean you’ve had any about me?” Immediately, he regretted asking that. It would be even more embarrassing if the answer was _no_ , after Adam had evidence of Ronan having multiple sex dreams about him.

Adam flushed. “I’m not answering that!” 

“Is that a yes, Parrish?”

“I hate you.”

The shit-eating grin wouldn’t leave Ronan’s face. “You _dream_ about me,” He said, drawing out the word _dream_ as if they were in elementary school again.

“You dream about me more,” Adam replied, petulant.

 Ronan shrugged. He couldn’t argue with that.

Adam swallowed, then, looking suddenly nervous. “You know, maybe we should test how the dream compares to the reality. For purely scientific purposes.” 

Ronan froze. His mind short-circuited.

Adam took a stupefied Ronan’s hand and walked them back towards the bed. When they were in front of it, Adam said, his voice low, “Just the shirt. Your dream jeans and dream boxers can get company some other time.”

Ronan nodded mechanically, as if in a trance.

They stood there awkwardly for a few moments, and then Adam said, “So, did you take dream Adam’s clothes off or did he do it himself? We should be as accurate as we can.”

Ronan finally found his tongue again. “I- uh. The – the first one.”

Adam smiled nervously and lifted his arms up. Ronan stopped breathing. He moved forward and with shaking hands, lifted Adam’s white threadbare T-shirt off of him and threw it onto the floor.

And then Adam Parrish was shirtless in front of him.

It’s not like he had never seen Adam shirtless before. He had, multiple times. But those instances were brief and Ronan had watched from a distance. Adam had never been comfortable with casual nudity the way most guys were, and only took off his shirt in front of others if he absolutely had to.

And now Ronan knew how much other people were missing out on by not being able to see the beauty that was Adam Parrish’s body. Adam was thin, but he was toned. Though he chest was paler than his arms, it was still pretty tan, due to having to work outside in the Henrietta sun for years. Freckles were everywhere, and Ronan wanted to count every one of them, wanted to trace them with his tongue.

Ronan only realized how long he’d just been staring slack jawed at Adam’s chest when Adam cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around his chest defensively, making himself smaller. When Ronan looked up, Adam’s expression was uncomfortable and anxious, as if he just wanted to put his shirt on again. Ronan’s heart clenched.

He moved even closer to Adam, and gently prodded his arms until he dropped them once again to his sides. They were both breathing hard, though they had barely touched each other yet.

Ronan cupped Adam’s cheek with his hand, gently tracing his cheekbone, and Adam leaned into the touch, his eyes nearly fluttering shut. Putting in all the love and sincerity he could muster in his tone, Ronan said softly, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Adam blushed from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and huffed, “Shut up.” Ronan could tell he didn’t believe him.

Ronan kissed him, softly, just a brush of lips on lips. “You are, Adam,” Ronan insisted against his lips. “So fucking beautiful.”

Adam let out a shaky breath and kissed him harder. Then he pulled back and took both of Ronan’s hands and placed them on his chest. “You can—,” he broke off, chewed his lip, started again. “Go ahead. Touch me.” 

Ronan swallowed. He moved his hands down his chest, feeling the hard planes, memorizing the feel. Adam’s breathing turned harsher. He moved his hands to his back, touching his shoulder blades, the dip of his spine, all while staring Adam in the eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face flushed, something intense and terrified and wanting in his gaze.

“You know,” Adam said, voice breathy, “As much as I like seeing you in my clothes, it’s not fair that only one of us is shirtless.”

Ronan gave him an amused smile. “I’ve been shirtless this whole day, Parrish. And we have to go to Nino’s.” 

“Fuck Nino’s. Take off your shirt.” 

Ronan grinned. “As you wish.”

When he was shirtless, Ronan saw that same hungry gaze on Adam’s face, and then they were kissing heatedly, lips and tongue and teeth, their chests flush against each other. The heat from Adam’s skin burned Ronan up from the inside. Adam’s hands were all over him, and Ronan groaned against his mouth. Then he broke off and mouthed at Adam’s neck, sucked on his collarbone, his hands on Adam’s bare hip. Adam let out a strangled gasp, and Ronan continued to kiss and lick and suck.

From Adam’s throat, Ronan moved his lips down hesitantly, kissing down his chest, going as low as he could without dropping to his knees (though he had the urge to do that for a different reason entirely). Adam arched his back, his breaths coming in desperate gasps and pants, his hands wrapped around Ronan, tracing the tattoo on his back. 

“Ronan,” Adam managed, his voice strained. “We should—,”

Ronan broke off, stood up straight and looked at Adam. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.” They were both breathing hard.

Ronan reveled at just how undone Adam looked. “You good?” He asked, grinning.

Adam shot him a glare. “Yes, Lynch.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “So, Nino’s—,”

“Fuck Nino’s,” Adam repeated, and then they lied down on the bed, both on their sides and staring at each other. Ronan traced patterns on Adam’s chest, connecting the freckles. Adam let out a contented sigh. 

“So? What’s the verdict?”

“Huh?”

“You know. Our experiment. Dreams versus reality.” 

Ronan gave him a tremulous smile, taking Adam’s hand and kissing it. “The dreams don’t even come close to the reality, Parrish.” He kissed his hand again. 

Adam inhaled sharply. “Good--,” His voice came out hoarse, so he cleared his throat and started again. “That’s—good. Good to know.”

After a few moments, Adam continued, “Well, this has been a successful test, I think. Next time, we can continue gathering results. By taking off other articles of clothing to join the shirt.” Adam’s voice was light, but his face was pink. Ronan was sure his own face mirrored Adam's. 

“I—Fuck. Yes.” Adam grinned at him. Then Ronan said, tentatively, “I’ve never—uh. You know. Done anything before.”

“I kind of figured, considering I was your first kiss. But neither have I.”

“How do you know that I haven’t kissed anyone before?” Ronan demanded. He hadn’t, of course, but he hadn’t told Adam that. 

Adam just raised his eyebrows.

Ronan scowled. “Jesus, fine, yes, you were my first kiss. Was I that bad of a kisser, Parrish?” 

“You weren’t bad,” Adam said, in the way an adult would tell a child that their painting of scribbles and fingerprints was lovely. 

Ronan glared at him. 

“You’re getting better,” Adam offered.

“Fuck you, the sounds you were making before this indicated that I’m a lot better than _not bad_ , Parrish.”

Adam’s face heated up. “I wasn’t making – god, shut _up_ , you’re the _worst_.”

“You started it by calling me a bad kisser.” 

“I didn’t call you a bad kisser, technically. And it hardly matters, because I love kissing you either way.”

Ronan scrunched up his face in fake disgust. “Gross. You’re such a sap.”

“That’s just what you do to me, Lynch,” Adam deadpanned.

“Aw, you make me soft too, Parrish.” Ronan’s tone was joking, but they both knew he wasn’t lying. 

Adam rolled his eyes and buried his face in Ronan’s chest, and Ronan’s arms wrapped around him. Ronan’s phone rang again and he groaned. 

“Pick it up,” Adam said. “He’ll just keep calling if you don’t.”

Ronan sighed and picked up. “We’re not coming to Nino’s, fuck off.” 

“Why not? We’ve been waiting for you. Your satyr is waiting for you too.”

“She has a _name_ , Gansey,” Ronan bit out. They had only named her a few days ago, but she wasn’t going to get used to it if people refused to call her by it. “And I’m not coming because I’m making out with my boyfriend, now fuck off,” Ronan said, and hung up.

When he put his phone away, Adam pulled back and looked at him, a pleased smile on his face. “What?” Ronan asked.

“Boyfriend, huh?” 

 _Oh_. They’d never called each other that before. Ronan flushed. “I, uh, yeah, if – I mean, if that’s okay.”

Adam just looked at him with pity and then kissed him. “Of course it’s okay, dumbass.” Then, “By the way. Are you going to keep those dream clothes, or…? They don’t really fit you super well.” 

“You want extras, Parrish?”

Adam shrugged. “Why not.” 

“Sure, man.” A pause. “I, uh… want to keep one shirt, though, if that’s okay.”

Adam raised his eyebrows, and Ronan felt his face heat up, but he continued on anyways. “I like it, okay? I told you, it… it smells like you,” he mumbled, his face half buried in his pillow.

“If it’s really that big of a deal you can just take one of my _actual_ shirts, you know. And in case you haven’t noticed, you can smell me all the time, now. I mean, you might look a little weird in public if you randomly start sniffing me, but I don’t care if you don’t.”

Ronan snorted. “Asshole.” 

“Really though, your obsession with my scent is a little strange, Lynch. I smell like cars and dirt most of the time.”

“Exactly.” 

Adam shook his head and smiled fondly. “You’re impossible.” But it sounded like _I love you_.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://adamparrush.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/adamparrush). Feedback would be appreciated!


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